Sibling Rivalry

I laid on the dock with my feet in the cold, dark water. I just wasn’t in the mood to party; I wasn’t in the mood to do anything. I felt sick to my stomach. I stared up at the moon, curiosity building, I thought of Cory. I thought of how I’ll never see him again. I thought of how we’ll never share any more memories together. I thought of how guilty I felt and how it was my fault. Before I could cry into a full out sob, a face appeared in front of mine, startling my thoughts. I turned around and stood to face the stranger.

This can’t be possible. I stood in disbelief as my brother stood before me. “Cory,” I croaked, “My little Cory.”

 He didn’t say anything but just stared on instead. I reached out to touch him. He didn’t move, but as I reached my hand towards his it just fell through his transparent body.

I gasped in shock, “Oh my God, you’re a ghost! Oh my God!”

“You killed me Charlie. Of course I’m a ghost,” he bitterly replied back.

“I didn’t mean it, Cory, I swear. It was all an accident. If I could take back that night I would. You can’t blame me please, I already feel guilty enough.”

“Good, you should. You took my life away from me. I was only ten years old; I still had my whole life left. I had a future. But you decided to drive reckless, you decided to put me in danger. You killed me.”

“NO!” I screamed, “No Cory! It was the other driver’s fault, he was drunk. I would never put you in danger, I love you too much.” Guilt flowed throughout my body and ran in my veins. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen, never. I had to show my brother I was sorry.

“If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have let me die. You would have protected me like a sister should. You were a bad sister, Charlie, you never treated me right.”

Tears flowed down my face. This had to be a nightmare. I was being haunted, not just in my dreams but even when I was awake. I couldn’t handle this. My heart was pounding through my chest, my breathing grew heavier and more rapid. I must be losing my mind.

“I’m going to make you suffer,” said Cory. “If I can’t live, then neither can you.”

Before I could respond, he darted at me and I fell into the pond. Water filled my lungs, ears, mouth, everything. I couldn’t think straight; I needed air. I tried to swim towards the surface, but I couldn’t. I looked down my watched my brother tied some weeds around my legs. I started to panic and wildly moved my body trying to get untangled.

Cory’s face then appeared in front of mine. “Goodbye, Sis.” He laughed sinisterly as I helplessly tried to save myself. Slowly I started to lose consciousness and with my lasting breath I looked Cory in the eyes and mouthed I’m sorry. My hearts slowed to a stop, my eyes gently closed, and silently I sank to the bottom of the pond.

Adrenline Junkie

I fell out of my seat and hit the floor as my phone sprung to life. I reached my hand over my desk trying to find my little phone just to stop the annoying tune playing out of it. God, I need to change the ringtone. I grabbed it and peered at the caller id, "Bobby's Cell." I instantly felt a twinge of annoyance; Bobby always calls for no reason and this time he woke me up from my much needed sleep. I answered the phone angrily, “What Bobby?”

"Kris, you need to get here now. There's no time to explain."

I became worried. "Okay, where are you?"

"I'm at the hospital. Carli's been seriously hurt." He sounded upset, which wasn't good. Carli is Bobby's girlfriend and my best friend.

I rushed up and grabbed my keys. "Alright, I'll be right there." And just like that I was out the door.

Carli is an aderline-junkie. She always puts herself at risks. She says she loves feeling invincible, loves feeling as though she can do anything. Anyway, you're only young once, which is her response to everything. Personally, what I think she does for fun is more dangerous. She's landed herself in the hospital a few times, but by the sound of Bobby's voice this time was serious.

Carli was in the hospital three times this past year and eleven times in total. She's broken her arm after diving off a cliff and hitting the rocks below. She's sprained both her ankles after jumping off the boardwalk. She sprained her neck from whiplash after her bungee cord snapped. And yes, there were many more things she's done, none of them smart to say the least, but hey, that was Carli for you.

I reached the hospital, parked, and ran to the emergency room. Bobby jumped up when he saw me and rushed over.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"Carli was riding on a dirt bike and rode up a hill and tried to do a back flip. It didn't end up very well; she landed on her head with the bike on top of her." This girl has seriously lost her mind, I thought to myself.

Sometime has past when the doctor allowed us back to see Carli. He said she was going to be alright, however, she cannot do anything that puts her at risk for a while. She broken a few vertebras in her neck and is going to have to wear a brace for a while.

Bobby and I walked back and greeted Carli.

"Carli, what were you thinking? You've never even rode a dirt bike before."

Carli smiled. "It looked easy enough. You’re only young once. Anyways I already thought of skydiving without a parachute after I get this brace off."

I laughed to myself. Yes, that was my best friend Carli. As crazy as she was, I loved her to death.

Mark Doty

Upon arriving to the Mark Doty reading I wasn't sure what to expect. I am not a fan of poetry so sitting through a reading of it was less than enjoyable for me. However once I entered the room I thought differently. The place was packed; with all the seats taken up people had to resort to standing up against the wall or sitting on the floor. My expectations for Doty were higher than before; surely he must be good if all these people were here. And yes he was.

As I took my seat and waited for Doty to begin, my anticipation grew. As he started his reading I realized that he was different from other poets I have read. His poetry seemed to be more relatable and easier to understand which caught my attention even more. His poetry seemed to be more like little narratives, more like prose. It made it seem like he was more reading short stories than poetry which is why I think I enjoyed it more than I would have thought.

Overall I enjoyed the reading and thought that Doty is an excellent writer. He's one of my more favorite poets for sure and I'll be sure to read more of his work.
I really enjoyed his two poems, "Heaven for Paul" and "House of Beauty". In "House of Beauty" he used a lot of vivid imagery to describe the fire and the scene going on while stating the flames made the house beautiful. I thought it was beautifully written. In "Heaven for Paul" he described being on a plane and preparing to crash, while he usually paranoid friend Paul is acting all calm during the chaos. Paul seen moments and his life through his eyes making peace with everyone. He is content to die, however they do survive.

Doty also made a comment how he likes to write about animals. He likes to see things in their perspective, especially his dog. He read a poem about his dog, however he also explained that they were many more too. He also writes a poem in the perspective of a baby mammoth and how it feels and views the world. Animals are a favorite subject of is, however he is not like most animal poets; he adds his own twist.

Overall I enjoyed the reading and think Doty is an excellent writer. He's one of my favorite poets for sure and I'll be sure to look into more of his work.

Peace Rock

I frantically hang up the phone, grab my leather coat, and dash down the stairs. "I'll be back!" I scream to my parents, and just like that I'm out the door. What could they have possibly gotten themselves into this time? Why am I always the one saving their asses? I sprint down the street, hop fences, run through traffic, and enter Pennypack Woods until I finally see the unsturdy, rotting treehouse my dad has built for us so many years ago. I hear voices, but can barely make out what they are saying. Jason and Lauren are whispering; this isn't a good sign.

Jason, Lauren, and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. Both of them are loud and obnoxious, and always come up with these stupid ideas that always end up badly. Well Lauren moreso thinks up these plans, while Jason puts them into action. Two years ago Jason ended up in the hospital due to a concusion and broken ribs, whereas last year all three of us ended up in prison for night; after being generously bailed out by my parents. Wherever those two are, trouble is bound to follow in their footsteps.

I climb my way up the rope ladder and swing my body up through the hole. Both of them look at me and become silent. I stare at them; both of them are dirty, covered in mud. Lauren is sitting closer to me with tear stains down her cheek, while Jason is huddled up in a corner.

"What in the world happened to you two?"

"Kris... we fucked up... big time..." Lauren stared blankly off into space.

"Things just got out of hand, we took it to far this time. We don't know what to do."

They were starting to scare me. This clearly was more serious than I had originally expected. I didn't want to deal with this now, not tomorrow, not ever. This is why I went away for school, to stop being apart of this troublesome trio, and already I'm being dragged into this mess on my first day back.

"It's only 8:12 p.m. What could you have possibly gotten yourselves into?"

Jason stared at the rotted wood floor and kept his head down. Lauren stared at me, tears in her eyes, and choked, "Little Ji-Jimmy, he's gone. He's gone Kris."

"What do you mean he's gone..?"

As Lauren stumbled through her story of how she convinced Jason that it was a good idea to jump off Peace Rock (a twenty five foot rock covered in paint jetting out over the river) and into the icy waters of the river below. Jason was about to jump, which was sure to put him back in the hospital, when Little Jimmy, no less than 13 years old walked by and asked to jump with him too. In the end, Little Jimmy jumped, got sucked under by the current, and never resurfaced.

"So he drowned..." I said, my mind foggy at what was happening.

"I don't know. We ran in the water looking for him, but we couldn't find his body. He might have swam off somewhere, but that's being hopeful. What do we do?"

We. Yes, of course we; we were all in this together. We have always, with a little luck, gotten out of situations like these before; but this time, this time we were way over our heads. We were fucked.

A Glance to the Past

there it sits on the windowsill, untouched and covered in dust
the cover is torn and tarnished, giving the impression it survived a bear attack
the pages have begun to curl, turning more yellow as the days go by
it sits there longingly, waiting anxiously to be opened
it has been years since life has been given to this little black book.


it is filled with all my hopes and desires, my secrets and confinements
its holds my childhood self, my middle school crushes, my adventures with my barbies
along with my dream to be a dancer and to become the pink power ranger
even though it is now old and tainted with age, it is still my best friend
maybe one day I will give life and revisit my past
but for the now the broken stitching reminds me of what once was.

Cinquain

I cry.

With no control

tears form into puddles,

sadness consumes my heavy heart.

Help me.

The form I choose to write was Cinquain. I decided to use this form of poetry because while reading through the other various forms, this one jumped to me and I immediately started putting syllables together to form this poem. The poem has more of a somber tone, with the theme being heartache and helplessness, however I leave it up to the reader to decide why the person is feeling this way. There are could be multiple meanings, the interpretations are endless. This makes the poem more relate able because everyone has felt this way before, just not all for the same reason. I stuck with the form's rules with the five lines going from two syllables, to four, to six, to eight, and then back to two again. Even though the poem doesn't rhyme, the even number of syllables helps it flow a bit. This form works well with the feeling I was trying to invoke, because even though there are not many of words, there is still a strong powerful somber emotion behind it. It indirectly explains in detail about being hurt and sad, instead of directly stating it from the gecko. This form is simple and straightforward, so it wasn't as complicated to do, especially since I'm not so good at poetry. Instead of making the reader think, the ideas aren't so abstract where it gets confusing. The imagery, such as "tears form into puddles", indicates to the reader that the speaker is more than just sad; it is more intense than that. This form of poem can either directly state something or leave something up for interpretation and that is what i like about it.

David Gessner

David Gessner has a unique style of writing to go along with his quirky personality. Last semester I took English 180 which was about nature in literature, so I actually already read his book Return of the Osprey for class. I also watched numerous youtube videos on him, including the one he opened with at his reading on Monday. From learning all about him, I expected his reading to be a bit out there and for his dry, sarcastic humor to bring up some laughter from the audience. The reading turned out to be interesting and engaging, however I wasn't convinced after to buy his book and read it.

It's not that I don't like his writing or the way he speaks through the page; I believe his words to be raw and powerful as he expresses his own ideas without protecting anybody or anything. It's like he said during his reading, "To write well, you have to be an asshole." This is true for him as that he does not censor how it really feels on any certain subject.

The only thing that loses my interest is the subject that he writes on; wildness. I don't like to read about nature or the wild and our effects on it. This subject is boring to me and makes me want to put the book down and do something else with my time. I would rather read something else with more of a plot or climax, or at least something that I can relate too. I have no interest nor nothing in common with the wild so reading about it isn't my top priority or something I would do in my spare time.